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“No, I don’t know that. You stalk me at the club, speak in monosyllabic grunts when I get in trouble, act like there’s some kind of brand on me I haven’t noticed.”

He gritted his teeth, looking like he was going to spout into those monosyllabic grunts, which I didn’t have time for.

I held up my hand. “That’s not what we’re talking about now, but trust me, we will talk about it.” I took a breath. “We’re talking about the elephant in the room. The fact you’ve been treating this like it’s some kind of vacation. That I’m not… an addict,” I finished.

“I know that,” he gritted out after a long silence, his voice tight. “Despite the fact I wish it weren’t the fuckin’ truth, I know that shit, Becky.”

“So why did you bring me here when you found that out?” I asked. “You have a life, one I presume is much more exciting than this.” I held my hand out to the board. “Playing Scrabble with a drug addict.”

“Stop,” he growled, his body stiff.

I tilted my head. “Stop what?”

He leveled me with his gaze. “Calling yourself that.”

I didn’t back down. “That’s what I am, Lucky. If you can’t handle hearing it out loud, then drive me back to Amber and let me take care of my own shit.” My voice rose to a near shout while I ignored the little blossom of fear at him doing just that. I didn’t understand that fear. Of being alone. Of being without him. So I ignored it.

“Take care of your own shit?” he repeated, his quiet voice juxtaposing my shout, but somehow holding more volume to it.

I nodded.

“Taking care of your own shit almost got you fuckin’ dead!” he roared, pushing out of his chair so hard it rattled to the ground.

I didn’t flinch at that. The rage. I was used to it. Welcomed it, in fact.

He stalked around to me, yanking my own chair around and bending to get in my face. “There’s no fuckin’ way I’m leavin’ you alone with this shit. Riskin’ a repeat of your overdose and this time you actually pump enough shit in there to actually leave this earth,” he growled. “So, to answer your earlier question, no, I don’t have anything fuckin’ better to do than make sure my firefly’s light doesn’t go out.”

I blinked at him. Again. And again.

“Yours?” I repeated on a whisper.

He nodded, his face still inches from mine. “Yeah. Mine. Since the moment you bared your tits on stage and threw your sass off it.” He paused, and for one terrifying and glorious moment I thought he might cross the distance between us and kiss me. Instead, he spoke. “And I can’t hear you call yourself that shit, not again. Not because I don’t know it’s true. I’m more than fuckin’ aware of that truth.” His gaze flickered down to my bare arms. “I can’t hear it again because I know that, despite your best efforts to appear otherwise, you’re fragile as fuck. So fuckin’ desperate to appear hard when you’re the most breakable. So I can’t hear it ’cause I’ve got a tenuous fuckin’ hold on my rage, and if I hear it too much, I’ll let go and break you without meanin’ to.” He reached up to brush my hair out of my face with a tenderness that didn’t match the fury on his face.

“Your rage?” I repeated. “You’re angry? At me?”

He nodded. “Fuckin’ furious.”

“Why?” I whispered. My heart sank with his admission, which was very un-Bex of me. Usually I didn’t give two shits if people were angry at me. In fact, I preferred that so idiots I didn’t want to waste time on didn’t talk to me. But Lucky wasn’t in that category. Despite everything, he was the only guy I wanted to waste time on.

“Because you’re blind. Blind to what you are. What you really are. If you could see what I see, no fuckin’ way would you go so deep into the darkness that you have to inject yourself with poison to see again.” He paused, and I was pretty sure it was because he could hear the way my heart was beating out of my fucking chest. I didn’t know it did that in real life. Didn’t know guys could actually make that happen. But there we were. It didn’t feel nice either. It felt uncomfortable, painful, like I might have a heart attack.

Lucky was unaware of my potential coronary. “I’m angry at myself for not finding you earlier, not being there to steer you away from that shit. Now I can only just watch and do everything I can to help you find your way out. ’Cause no matter how much I wish it was different, it’s not up to me. It’s up to you and you only. So you’re here to make that decision, and I’m here with you to watch you hopefully make the right one.”


Tags: Anne Malcom Sons of Templar MC Erotic